


Write Away Their Time

by Pirandog



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Death Note - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirandog/pseuds/Pirandog
Summary: A walk home from an all-night stay at the library proves to be the best and worse occurrence of Alexander Hamilton’s life, as was finding a small black book with only two words on the cover. Death Note.





	1. Justice

_Okay… breathe… count to ten… you… no, I… I took someone’s life… a human life… no… a human life that deserved it… he did nothing for the world… he only plagued it… I did the world a favour… I did the world **justice.**_

* * *

 

Alexander Hamilton. The teacher’s pet. The unstoppable writer. The law student. You either loved him or hated him; there was no in-between. He made his fair share of enemies anywhere he went, and regardless of what he was told to do, he never stood down from a fight.

–

Alexander had stayed over at the university tonight to finish a research paper, as he often did. The dark circles under his eyes felt like a heavy weight to him as he willed himself to stay awake in the dark. The room was lit only softly by the lamps around him, seeing as though the overhead lights had been shut down hours ago. It was difficult to work in these conditions. His vision continued to become blurry, but he powered through his desires to rest and finished his work.

He left the library around five a.m., the world slowly illuminating itself around him. He walked home slowly, the brightness of the sun threatening to blind him, but he was still alert. That perceptiveness might’ve been the one thing that allowed him to notice the small black book laying on a bench on the sidewalk.

Alex’s wasn’t one to pick up objects he saw laying around. After all, it might belong to someone else. But, something inside him told him that it didn’t belong to someone. It told him that it didn’t belong to anyone. Not yet. Almost by instinct, he ambled over to the bench, concentrating his sights on the book. Approaching the object, he leaned over to see the cover.

_Death Note._ _What’s that supposed to mean…?_

He reluctantly opened the cover to black page, containing writing in white. The pages were bordered with white designs and curled patterns on the corners. He read the first few lines, his eyes widening in fear and disgust.

_1\. The human whose name is written in this note shall die._

Thoughts raced through Hamilton’s mind as he read the sentence carefully a second, third, and fourth time.

_Someone will die…?! What kind of sick joke is this?!_

What could he do? There was nothing to do. He was scared and frantic. He couldn’t just leave this thing here to be picked up by someone who’d use it for evil intentions, but it may not even be real. In fact, it most likely wasn’t real. Why was he so anxious?

Checking his watch, he noticed how late he would get home. He quickly concealed the book into his bag and continued down the now bright street. Thomas might be angry.

–

Alex reluctantly opened the door to his apartment, silently hoping that Thomas would still be asleep. As soon as he stepped inside the tepid room, he saw the outline of his significant other on the couch. Thomas looked up at the sound of the door opening and stood up, eyes wide with worry and irritation.

“My god, Alexander! Where the hell were you?! I’ve been waitin’ here for hours!” his magenta jacket fluttered behind him as he rushed over to confront Hamilton. 

Alex smiled nervously up at the tall man, rubbing his neck in discomfort. He was in for it now. “Ah, I’m sorry, Thomas… I was up all night trying to finish a project in the library and…”

“The timin’ wouldn’t’ve been such a problem if you’d only told me! But you didn’t! No texts, no calls, nothin’!” Thomas interrupted desperately. “I was worried sick!”

Alex tried slipping around Thomas, hoping to be able to make his way to the bedroom and finally sleep. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again…”

Thomas scowled at Alex’s half-assed apology, but decided to let it go. “It better not.”

–

Alexander finally arrived back into his room and, dropping his bag beside the door, fell onto his soft bed. The plush green duvet was a small comfort that he had missed the sensation of that night. He would have gladly returned himself under his covers, had it not been for the black book resting within his bag returning itself to his thoughts. He hesitantly lifted himself back up, stepped back over to the bag, and unzipped the compartment holding the Note. The book’s cover beckoned him to lift it, and in doing so, he continued to read the rules.

_2\. This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person’s face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected._

_3\. If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person’s name, it will happen._

_4\. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack._

_3\. After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds._

He finished reading the first page and carried the book to his desk. So many questions rushed through his head. This book couldn’t possibly be real. There was no way. Things like this just don’t exist. But then, he began to wonder something different, as if he were considering using it.

_What would that make me if I were to write a name? Would I be a murderer?_

Pulling out his phone, he logged into the live news channel. The current coverage showed a man with the name Jackson Brax and a claim that he was currently holding up an airport with a machine gun. Alex hated watching the news. It always showed him how much was happening that he couldn’t control. It made him feel helpless. He shrugged to himself and decided that he might as well give it a shot. If it didn’t work, he’d proven that the book was a hoax. If it does… well, he’d cross that bridge when he’d get to it.

_Jackson Brax_

The name slid off of the pen in his hand as he wrote, carrying the life strand of the man Hamilton was about to condemn in its ink. Lifting his hand off of the seemingly harmless paper, the strand had been cut, for merely seconds later, he heard the frantic cries of the news reporter pronouncing the criminal to be dead.

He stood up from his desk and dropped his phone onto the floor.

_He’s… dead?! No… that can’t be possible!_

Alexander’s heart raced, quickening his breathing. The Death Note was real. There was no other explanation. Things like that don’t just happen by coincidence. He paced the room, the light blue walls seeming to close in on him as judgement for what he’d just done. He stopped pacing and leaned on the door, trying to regain his breath. Looking down at his shaking hands, he tried to swallow the knot in his throat.

_Okay… breathe… count to ten… you… no, I… I took someone’s life… a human life… no… a human life that deserved it… he did nothing for the world… he only plagued it… I did the world a favour… I did the world **justice.**_


	2. Strings Attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Alexander realizes that there are a few strings attached to this bargain.

It had been a week. Only a week since Hamilton had picked up the Death Note, and already over thirty names were written in the book’s thin pages. He made sure to pace himself, so as not to arouse suspicion. But even then, some people around the world had begun to catch on. It didn’t bother him, though. The killings were never direct, meaning they couldn’t be traced back to him. At least, as far as he knew.

He had begun to become more reclusive, remaining in his room to study and find more people to subject to his judgement. Pursuing a law career made such judgments ten times easier. He’d practically perfected the law, and knew the rules by heart. He had absolute confidence in his cause. The glint in his eye that appeared when he wrote names in his note only grew brighter as the days passed, and the shine that had lingered in his eye when he was with everyone else only faded.

That said, he hadn’t continued reading the rules past the first page. Had he read until the end, he would have known that by the twentieth day of his owning the book, the angel that had once possessed the book would appear before him. However, his impatience to use the book for good had caused him to overlook such trivial information.

Thomas had gone to bed early that night, still angry at Alex for notifying him of his late stay at the library. That easily left Alexander with the silence of the house and an undisturbed environment to work in. The house was quiet and empty, dark except for the soft lamps glowing beside his desk. He enjoyed it when the house was devoid of any noise. It gave him peace to think. His pen nearly touched the paper, prepared to bring judgment to the next criminal, when he heard the sound of a flirty French accent purring behind him.

“Bonjour, Mon Ami~”

Alex spun around in his chair, almost falling backwards out of it as he saw a young man laying sideways on his bed. He was seemingly normal, his curly hair pulled back into a ponytail and the flirtatious smirk on his face never threatening to falter. Apart from his human appearance, there was something wrong. The man had a strange outfit on, almost mocking that of a heavy metal band. Ripped clothes of an indeterminable fabric, chains wrapped around his waist, and necklaces of the cross decorated his evidently human form. A small bag carrying a Death Note similar to Alex’s crossed his torso, and red eyes stared back into Alex’s soul. Lastly, black feathered wings sprouted from his back. He was Thomas. But he  _wasn’t_.

“Who… Who the hell are you?!” Alexander spat at the man. Fear had overtaken him, but he refused to allow this man… this  _thing_ … to see that.

“Je m’appelle Lafayette!” the man grinned at him from the bed. “You’ve been quite busy I see.”

Alex froze in his seat. This…  _Lafayette_ … had been watching him? How much did he know? How much would he tell anyone else?

“Why are you here? Why do you look like Thomas?” Those were the only questions that allow themselves to escape his lips. Fear does things like that.

“Oh, curious, are we? Well, let us see…” Lafayette bit his lip in thought. “I am here, because that is my Death Note. I dropped that onto the earth in the hopes that I might encounter something exciting. It seems I have gotten my wish. And as for looking like your boyfriend, I decided it might make you more comfortable if I took the form of someone you were familiar with. Did it work?”

_No_

“Why would that matter?” Alex frowned at the very idea of this. Someone who was his boyfriend, but wasn’t. It almost sickened him.

Lafayette’s flirtatious look lowered into a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to get comfortable around me if I’m going to be spending this much time with you. That Death Note is mine, and until you give it away or die I will be a sort of, how you say,  _companion_  to you.”

Alexander’s eyes grew wide, a grimace settling in on his face. This thing? As his companion? No. Effing. Way. He stood up, half angry and half panicking. “What the hell are you?! What do you want from me?!”

“Oh, pardon my manners.” Lafayette stood from his position on the bed and took a dramatic bow. “I am an angel of death, here to watch as you humans scramble in the game of chess you call life. A simple concept, really.” Alex was dangerously close to tackling this guy to the ground, before he heard a knock on his bedroom door that stopped him in his tracks.

“Alexander, why the hell are you yellin’? Is someone in there with you?” Thomas had heard him talking and woke up in a huff.

Alex was petrified and was only brought back to his senses by a needlessly hard hip-bump from Lafayette. “Go on, Mon Petit Chou. He can’t see or hear me, so you may as well be talking to yourself.”

“Ah, sorry, Tom!” Hamilton tried hiding the shaking of his voice behind a preppier mask. “Just.. er… practicing!”

Thomas didn’t buy it. “I’m comin’ in.” Alex became frantic. Where could he hid the book? He didn’t have enough time to. He did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He slammed the book closed and sat on his desk, covering the book in turn. It happened just in time, and almost the second the book was hidden, Thomas’s bright eyes appeared in the doorway. “We need to talk.”

Hamilton gave a nervous chuckle. He noticed his voice was higher than it normally was, but only after he started talking. “Heh, do we? I don’t think we do.”  _What the hell, Alex._

Thomas shook his head, almost disappointed. “No, we do. Look, I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but you’re not actin’ straight. You barely come out of your room anymore, and I never see you. Are you avoidin’ me, or what?”

Hearing this made Alex’s face soften in concern. “Oh… Oh, Thomas no! No, of course not! I just… I have a lot of stuff to do… with school and all. You understand, don’t you?”  _Don’t stand up, idiot._

That fixed nothing. “It’s  _always_  been like that. We’ve both always been busy, but you’ve never ignored me as much as you have this past week!” Thomas’s face grew red in obvious frustration. “No matter what, we agreed that we’d make time away from school to spend time, but now you’re takin’ away from that! What is this, some sort of message?”

“M-Message?”

Thomas’s voice was almost a whisper. “Are you tryin’ to break up with me?”

“What? Thomas, I-”

“Are you tryin’ to break up with me?!”

_No no no no!!!_

Alex nearly stood up from his place, before remembering what he was supposed to be doing. “What are you talking about?! No, I would never!”

The Virginian began walking further into the room, nearly pushing Alexander off the desk. “Then tell me what you’re doin’, or I walk.”

He couldn’t let him do that. “I-I’m sorry, Thomas! I’ve just been so slammed with work, I haven’t had time to spare! I didn’t mean to neglect you.”  _Liar_.

Thomas backed away, letting his expression fall into a sadder state. “Just… get out here more.” Closing the door behind him, Alex was alone once more. Almost.

“Sounds like you need to be more careful.” the French angel mused. “That guy finds your Death Note and you’re  _malchanceux.”_

Hamilton stared transfixed at the door that his boyfriend just stepped out of. “What am I gonna do…?”

“Get back to reading those rules.”


	3. A Challenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new party becomes involved.

_What a plain room. At least give me something to enjoy while I’m here. I am working, after all._

The walls were yellow. Lighter and duller than mustard, thank god, but yellow nonetheless. The bed was creaky, with steel posts standing on each corner. Not that they held anything up. They were only there for what he assumed was decoration. A poor choice, if you were to ask his opinion about it. Hotels never seemed to get anything right. The portraits covering the tacky paint could barely be considered art. Mostly just drab paintings the designers had scrapped up from some yard sale a mile away. The landscapes had nothing of note about them. Sure, you saw green grass and a few farms, but true art had so much more. The pictures of people were even worse. Dead eyes, emotionless expressions. It was no wonder they could only make it to a hotel and not a museum. How boring. He never liked hotels, even though they were the only places he’d ever really lived in after college. He moved around too much to settle in one place. What’s more, people could track him if they wanted to. He couldn’t risk it.

He remembered noticing the string of deaths after about a week. The world’s worst criminals, seemingly dropping dead for no apparent reason. Most of them had no personal or genealogical history of cardiac arrests and no pre-existing conditions to merit such an occurrence.

He walked across the room and sat at his computer. The Mac was the newest model, as were most of the things he owned. Having to take down and set up PC was the most dreadful part of consistent moving. The desk, which he did not own, was made of wood. Coated in what seemed to be a cheap lacquer, it stood shiny as ever in the corner of the hotel room, diagonally from the bed. Beside the desk hung a cork-board that he had put together himself. Pages and news articles of the recent deaths had been pinned to the board, with red string attaching itself to the center piece. The silhouette of a man with a question mark was the midpoint.

_I must look back on these. The deaths are connected. Each time and in every place I check, there is a common thread. There always is._

Only recently had he been contacted by the police force. Slow as they were, they had confirmed his suspicions of the linked criminal deaths. The chief of the police force, Washington, had called him personally to arrange a meeting about this questionable case.

_“Too early.”_  was all he had replied to Washington’s request. If this truly was a person of malicious intent, the best course of action would be to expect the enemy’s next decision. Prepare for his move, and draw him out using his own paranoia against him. But until then, he had to wait for it.

–

“Alright, I read your stupid ass rules, Laf. Can I get back to writing now?” Alexander whined to the death angel, who was making himself comfortable on his bed.

Lafayette blinked innocently at the now irritated human. “Aw, already giving me a nickname. How sweet of you~… I suppose if you’re so restless, you may do as you wish. Ah, but Mon Ami, do not forget your promises to your other human friends. The more you force them to wait, the angrier they become at you.”

Alex gasped at the mention of his friends. “I was supposed to meet the Schuylers for lunch!!” he leaped out of his desk chair and stumbled out of the room. Grabbing his green hoodie, he rushed out the door with Lafayette flying by his side.

Socialization wasn’t normally a challenge. Although, it did become increasingly difficult when a certain angel of death insisted on providing commentary on every single topic that presented itself to the conversation. The lunch flew by smoothly, mostly covering topics of no real interest. That was, until they reached the subject of recent murders.

“Have you seen the news lately, Alex?” Angelica Schuyler asked him with her sparkling hazel eyes. Her hair was half up, the ponytail swaying with her as she spoke. The curls surrounded her face spread apart as they became longer. Her pink dress and black belt gave varying compliments to her skin tone, making her seem even more attractive the longer you gazed on her.

“Which one? There’s lots of news these days…” Hamilton gave his best attempt at acting clueless. He knew exactly what this was about, and the silence of the dim cafe only added to his suspense. The wooden chair couldn’t possibly bring him close enough to the table as he wanted to be.

“The ones about the prison deaths, of course!” this time, Eliza spoke up. Her round face brightening as she told everyone excitedly about what she’d learned. “I hear that there’s someone out there causing the world’s criminals to die from heart attacks! Riveting, isn’t it?” Eliza had always been one to vouch for justice, and her reaction to this only proved as much. She pulled down at the hems of her blue dress in eagerness, waiting for everyone’s opinion.

Alex shook his head, trying his best to ignore the silky strands of laughter escaping Lafayette. “Impossible. No one is able to do such a thing.”

Peggy finally stood her ground. Her yellow dress flowed with her movements and brought more attention to her than her sisters. “But it’s true! Someone is able to do it! You must have noticed!” Her light eyes glittered with enthusiasm and determination to convince Alex of what she knew to be true.

“I can’t believe that. It just doesn’t make sense. It must be coincidence.” Alex pushed.

_Good. Downplay their ideas. Get them on your side._

“You don’t really think we’re lying, do you?” Eliza chimed in with her signature sad expression.

“No, I just believe the media is lying. I’m sure they’re just blowing a few deaths out of proportion. This whole thing should blow over in a week.” Alex reassured the trio. As long as he claimed not to believe the stories, he’d throw anyone off his trail. Even the all-knowing, all-seeing Angelica Schuyler. 

The girls made no attempt to convince him further. They knew of his stubborn nature, and knew that once he had an idea in his head, nothing could change his mind. The lunch continued rapidly, finishing finally around one p.m. They parted ways, and Alexander made his way towards his 2 o’clock class. Nothing could beat law school.

–

“So? Do you see why I’m perfectly capable of handling the Death Note?” Alex gloated to the angel of death as he was walking home. “I learn everything I need to from this class.”

Lafayette chuckled at the thought. “Confident, hmm? Well, I didn’t hear anything mentioning how to avoid being caught by the police.” His wings flapped loudly behind him, eagerly awaiting the student’s arguments.

“Hah!” Alex burst, amused. “I don’t need anything like that. As long as I know the processes that they’ll be using, I can avoid them. Simple as that.” What would an angel of death know about this anyways? He’s not tied down by laws or a criminal justice system.

The two arrived back home, exhausted from the hours of study and work. Alex set his bag down on the floor and was about to return to the sanctuary of his room before hearing a voice behind him.

“Ahem.”

He whirled around to find Thomas sitting at the dining table, his arms crossed and his expression irate. Alex almost stumbled back at the sight of his boyfriend. “A-Ah! Thomas! How are you?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow and scowled at the question. “How am I? Well, let’s see… I haven’t seen you for a week, you won’t respond to my texts, and the first time you come out your room in days, you only talk to the Schuyler sisters. I sure as hell could be better.”

_Ah shit…_

“Thomas, c’mon! You know I d-don’t mean anything by that…!” Alex tripped over his words, trying to find the best explanation for his absence.

Lafayette began cackling. “Ohoho, don’t you now? If I recall correctly, you seem to be hiding a few things from him. What a good  _menteur_ you are, Alexander~!”

_Shut the hell up, you idiot…_

“What the hell have you been doin’?! At least talk to me! If you’re busy, sure I get that! But hidin’ from me isn’t goin’ to make me understand you!” Thomas stood up in his anger. His face was flushed, and his hands were balled into fists. 

“Thomas, please! You know it’s not like that! When have I ever lied to you?” Alex pleaded.

_Now._

“Hell, I can’t even tell anymore!” Thomas yelled one last time. He spun on his heel and returned to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. What had gotten into Alex?

Alexander rubbed his temples and entered his room, making sure to close and lock the door.

“That went well, don’t you think?” Lafayette mused. He had sat back down on the bed and fiddled with the Rubik’s cube that was always stored on a nearby shelf.

“What is  _wrong_  with you?!” Alexander finally snapped back at him. “Are you  _trying_  to ruin my life?!”

Laf giggled at the accusation. “My my, so personal, Mon Ami. You forget, he can’t see or hear me, so I can say what I want. You’re ruining your own life.”

“No!  _You_  are ruining it! With your ridiculous claims of being my companion or whatever!” Hamilton’s face was hot in his annoyance. “I never asked for you to be here!”

Raising an eyebrow, the angel laughed again, “You certainly did, when you used the Death Note. You could have easily thrown it away, but you didn’t.” his smirk never faltered. “Do not blame me for the sins that you have committed, Cheri.”

Alex was no longer willing to listen. He returned to his desk and once more began writing names, allowing his phone to continue playing the news. As the afternoon dragged on, he found himself becoming bored with his judgments, and began looking through the internet, trying to find any hint of his presence. He was no disappointed. Within minutes, he found multiple websites, most either praising his effects or claiming to be the cause of them. Of all the names he had been given, Verite was his favourite. The French word for truth. From what he had been doing, this conveyed his ideals perfectly.

Many sites spoke of the changes he had made for the world, reporting on the decrease in criminal activity that most recently showed itself in society. Others praised the system of the judgments, expressing their approval of the killings of murderers, rapists, and the like, while leaving the lowly criminals to their own devices. Only a few websites criticized him, telling the world about their disapproval of any killings, be they of the evil or the good.

He enjoyed reading these. He enjoyed the many accounts he created under false names on such websites to engage in such arguments. He thoroughly wrote paragraphs and essays about his stance on the matters, and, even with his limited abilities to share his extensive knowledge, he knew exactly how and what to argue with.

He found himself about to continue with another such argument, before he was interrupted by a white screen displaying only a single black letter.

_**B** _


	4. Contested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the face-off begins.

_What is this? What the hell is going on??_

The letter stood where it was, unmoving at even the attempts at hard resets and shut downs. Soon, there began to emit a garbled, muffled voice from the phone screen.

“Hello, everyone.” the voice slurred out. Alex’s eyes turned when he heard it coming from the television in the living room. He opened the door and sat beside Thomas, who was listening intently to the announcement. “As you may have noticed, there have been a string of deaths presenting themselves within the confines of the world’s greatest convicts. These deaths are seemingly unconnected, until you realise that each one perished from a heart attack.” Alex flinched at the statement. How? How could they connect this so soon? Thomas continued watching, paying no mind to Alexander’s seemingly panicky state.

The screen changed to show a man with bright red hair reading from a page at a desk, a small sign sitting in front of him reading Samuel Seabury. The voice was now clear, revealing the man’s British accent. “The supposed person behind these killings has been named Verite by the general public.” he read from the paper like a robot. As if the words weren’t his. “Although this person… this  _child_ … may believe they are accomplishing good for the world, they are wrong. I urge you not to be swayed by idealistic values and unachievable goals. Verite, I now speak directly to you. Whoever you are,  _whatever_  you are, let it be known to you and everyone listening that the actions you are taking are criminal. Killing those who are paying for their transgressions does not make you a hero, it makes you no better than they are. Your decisions and actions are evil, and must cease. Discontinue these killings, and we will not try to find you. If you don’t we will be forced to act against you.”

Alex grimaced at this newfound opponent.  _That bastard! Who does he think he is? Calling me a criminal! I’m trying to fix the world!_

Lafayette cackled behind him once more. “Wow, you’ve created quite the enemy, haven’t you? Better get rid of him soon, or he’ll be on your track in no time.” His hand squeezed Alex’s shoulder. It took everything Alexander had in him to not hit him away, but he didn’t. After all, Thomas was still there.

“Oh thank god.” Thomas frowned at the TV, “I knew there was somethin’ goin’ on. Almost every day a new criminal died for no reason. I’m glad they’re finally doin’ somethin’ about it. I was beginnin’ to wonder if I had to go talk to the police myself.”

Alexander looked over at Thomas, almost appalled. “You don’t think this is a good thing? I mean, these terrible people are being removed from the problem! They won’t pose a threat to the world any longer.” Lafayette leaned over on the couch, listening intently.

“A good thing? What the hell have you been takin’? They were already payin’ the price for their crimes, so why kill them in the name of justice? Justice had already been done! These killin’s are pointless, and can’t continue! You have to see that.” Thomas monologued. Standing up, he crossed his arms and grimaced. “The world is bad enough as it is. We don’t need another lunatic out there tryin’ to play god when he has no business judgin’ the actions of others. And until you realize that and get your priorities straight, I’ll be out with people who actually have some common sense.”

With that, Thomas grabbed his magenta coat and left the house. Alex didn’t try to stop him. Jefferson was right of course, but Alexander would never admit it. After all, how should he know how this sort of power feels? He never had the opportunity to change the world that Hamilton was gifted with.

“Ouch,” Lafayette purred. He climbed over the back of the sofa and plopped down beside him. “He has quite a leg up on you, doesn’t he? ‘Lunatic.’ Hm. I’ll have to learn how he speaks if I want to do my job properly.”

“Just shut up, will you? He’s not done.” Alexander pointed to the television fixedly.

“You will be given forty-eight hours. If the killings have ceased, there will be no attempts made to locate you or your conspirators. However, if you fail to comply with this offer, we will be forced to participate in active attempts to find you.” The man continued threatening as Alexander’s anger persisted its growth. He finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ll show you justice, you son of a bitch!!” he shrieked at the T.V. He leaped from the couch and burst back into his room. Grabbing a pen and his Death Note, he frantically scribbled a name onto one of the blank pages.

_Samuel Seabury_

Within seconds, the fiery haired man stopped his talking, held the place on his chest above his heart, and collapsed upon the desk. Alexander smirked in satisfaction at his handiwork. “Threat neutralized.”

The screen glitched a few times, before returning back to the large  _B_  covering the screen. The garbled voice emitted itself from the screen once more. “You have just revealed three things to me, Verite.”

Lafayette snickered once more upon hearing this. “Or not.”

Alexander’s face fell into terror.

“By killing my spokesman, you have directly claimed your denial of my offer to you, thus beginning a war between us both. Don’t worry, he was similar to men you have killed before, leaving your record untouched. In killing this man, you have revealed to me that you needn’t touch a person in order to kill them. You need only their name and face, at most. Secondly, you have revealed to me the state you live in. This program was to run once in each state, i.e. fifty times today, all at separate hours. This hour, the program was performed only in the state of New York, therefore proving that you live and operate within that state. Lastly, you have shown that you run on impulse, failing to use logic when your ideals are being contested against you. Such recklessness will only lead to your downfall and result in your imminent doom. I will keep in touch.” The screen shut back off, leaving Alexander in the now darkened room surrounded by silence.

Alex sat motionless. He was beaten.  _Outsmarted_. No, no one can outsmart him. He was the wittiest and fastest thinker in his year, in the world. But that damned detective…  _B_ … he was a liability. He couldn’t be allowed to investigate this any further.

“Well, he’s quite the interesting opponent, isn’t he? Are you going to do anything about that?” Laf questioned after a while of silence.

Before Alexander had a chance to answer, his phone rang on the side-table. He rolled his eyes once he caught sight of the caller ID. “Hello, Washington.”

“Hamilton! Did you see the news report?” the deep voice on the other line asked.

“How could I not…” Alex grumbled at the question. Of course, the Chief of Police would be asking these questions.

“I thought I’d have to inform you, I will be working with B on this case for as long as possible. If you ever have the time, I would like you to work beside me in the investigation,” Washington said confidently. “I’m sure you’d be a valuable asset to us.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll do what I can to help.” Alex responded awkwardly.

“Good. Just call if you need anything. Be careful, son.” Washington said as he hung up.

Alex sat back and drummed his fingers on his leg. Helping the exact people who aimed to find and eliminate him while continuing to judge criminals would take a lot more work. But, thankfully for Hamilton, working was his specialty.


	5. Laurens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world turns upside down.

“Do you have any objections, Mr. Washington?”

A tall man in a navy blue suit stood in the corner of the room beside the coffee table, arms crossed, and brow furrowed. “Is there really no other way?” he asked, clearly disgruntled about the whole situation.

“I’m afraid so,” B replied flatly. “If we are to be working together, I must require that I have a basis of trust upon you all’s family and friends.”

“Is that even legal?” another man asked as a scowl crossed his face. The bandanna tied around his forehead swung as he spoke, and he found himself tightening it every few minutes.

B looked up at the man from his desk and shook his head lightly. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less. This is a matter of national importance, and worrying about people’s privacy is the least of my concerns, Mr. Mulligan.”

Yet another man stepped forward in the room, his telltale jacket gleaming out of the corner of B’s eyes. “And what about my... roommate? Is he to be monitored as well?”

“He is, Mr. Jefferson.” B answered. “Not only will families be followed closely, but as will close friends. Any connections of yours must be watched in a close matter.”

Thomas sighed and joined the small group that had congregated in the center of the room. They spoke amongst themselves hurriedly and wondered about the motives of this mysterious detective. They had only met him a few days ago, and he was already requesting- no,  _ordering_ \- that he be allowed full coverage of their family and friends’ personal lives.

Quietly, B ushered over one of the men in the group. The man had curly hair that was tied into a ponytail, and his green eyes shone brightly in expectancy.

“I trust you,” B began. “Therefore meaning that I have a special task for you.”

The man’s face lit up. “Really? That’s amazing! What do I have to do?”

“Mr. Laurens,” B started, “You are the only person here who is of the correct age to tail Mr. Jefferson’s roommate. I realize that this puts you in a difficult position, but I have no one else that I am able to ask.”

“You can count on me!”

* * *

 

Thomas hadn’t returned to the dorm since the incident on the television. He was most likely of screwing around somewhere with James Madison, Alexander figured. Other than that, however, the only thing to occur was the appearance of a new student who could commonly be found in many of the same classes as Alex. John was his name. Alex had to admit, the guy was kind of cute.

It was a quiet Wednesday and Alex had just finished class when he noticed John following him. He would look behind him every so often to find the curly haired man merely a few feet behind.

“He’s still there.” Lafayette informed for at least the third time that day. His consistent presence had begun to make Laf uncomfortable.

Alex acknowledged the update by stopping dead in his tracks. John failed to notice the sudden cease in movement and found himself bumping straight into Alexander’s back after a few moments. His face flushed a deep red and he struggled to speak even the first word of an apology. Alex spun on his heel to face him.

“Why are you following me, John?” he questioned, “What do you want?”

John stumbled and tripped over his words as his face became redder. “I-I... I was just... I d-didn’t mean t-to...”

“I know you’re stalking me. Don’t try to deny it. I know when I’m being followed.” Alex pressed. “So? Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna-”

Before Alexander had a chance to finish his remark, John blurted out, “You’re cute, okay?!”

_Real smooth._

John clapped his mouth shut with his hand and recoiled back at his sudden remark. Alex just stared at the slightly taller man in a cross between astonishment and confusion.

“Uh... thanks... I guess...?” Alex muttered awkwardly.

_Who is this kid? We’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk downtown, and he tells me I’m cute?_

Almost immediately, John whirled around and attempted to take his leave, his ponytail swishing behind him.

“Hold up!” Alexander called behind him. John froze and took notice of his own shaking hand. He reluctantly looked back and scrunched himself up as if he were an armadillo.

“You’re pretty cute, too.” Alex finally added. Who knows? Maybe he’s a Verite supporter. “Come on, you can walk with me. You don’t have to stay behind.”

John shuffled up beside Hamilton and silently cursed himself for being so reckless. The small brown-haired man beside him couldn’t possibly be so evil as to kill someone. He was too kind. He had watched him interact with multitudes of people, and he seemed loved for the most part. Sure, he got a few nasty looks from some people, but who doesn’t? From all that John had seen, Hamilton was only some college pretty boy with good grades.

“So, you’ve been following me all this time just to tell me that?” Alex probed. A smirk tugged at his lips when he saw the other man bite his lip and give a wide-eyed look.

“N-No! I mean yes! I m-mean uh...” John stammered quickly at the accusation. Why couldn’t he speak correctly when Alex asked him anything? He was made to seem like a blabbering idiot, sputtering out constant nonsense whenever asked a question. How humiliating.

Alex made a soft chuckle and hummed his words lightly. “Don’t hurt yourself. I could use a friend like you around.” His words were casual, but his tone was flirtatious and smooth. John’s freckled face was always at least a light shade of pink when he was spoken to, and it gave him a small bit of charm. A charm that Alex couldn’t help but appreciate for himself.

And so, these small conversations continued throughout the rest of the day and carried themselves on for weeks on end. They had exchanged phone numbers and met almost every day for a coffee and study session.

They spoke of their mutual friends and their classes. Not once did Verite ever become a topic of conversation, which was something Alexander was slightly thankful for. After all, many of his classes had begun revolving around those murders. It had provided the teachers a perfect opportunity for debates about the morality of it all and if the killer deserved any pardon. In addition to that, Alex worked at the school newspaper, writing dozens of articles in the defense of Verite and his methods, all written under fake names for safety reasons.

A month eventually passed for them, with Thomas only ever coming home to sleep, and he was gone by morning. It was almost as if John lived there instead, since he spent more time in the dorm with Alex.

“You know, it’s been a month, and I’m pretty sure I never caught your last name.” Alex informed the other casually. His legs were slung over the back of the couch, and he lay upside down while scrolling through his phone for new articles to use in his research paper. At least, that’s what he had told John he was doing.

John froze. He had to remember what B had told him. According to the television program last month, Verite needed a name and face to kill. He was still on police duty, and giving away his name would be suicide if this guy really was Verite. And what’s more, if he gave a fake name and someone else were to call him by something different, Alex would know that John lied to him. If Alex isn’t Verite, he’d think that John didn’t trust him. No... it had been a month. Not once had Alexander ever done or said anything suspicious. He had spent more time around him than anyone else had. John trusted Alexander.

“Laurens,” John replied after much deliberation. “My full name is John Laurens.”

Alexander smiled warmly and returned to his phone. “Cute.”

Yet another week passed. John lamented every so often about giving away his name so easily, but after a few days, the thought escaped his mind, and he no longer concerned himself over it. Their time spent together was always so laid-back and nonchalant, that one might think they had known each other all their lives. John’s previous stalker-like tendencies were never spoken of, and Verite never became a topic of exchange.

Finally, the day came when Laurens had to report to B. He wandered into the hotel room and found himself stiffly loitering around a corner as he listened to B explaining everyone’s reports about their families. It was always the same. Nothing suspicious to note.

Once everyone had been relieved of their family and friends’ suspicions, B ushered over Laurens to the desk once more.

“And your report? What have you found about Alexander Hamilton?” B questioned between sips of tea.

Laurens considered telling B about his mistake. He would most likely want to know everything. But Laurens was sure of Alexander’s innocence. He told himself that he had to clear Alex’s name before he told B everything.

“Nothing to report, sir. Hamilton has been behaving suspiciously, and the tailing has been carried through without any notable accounts.” Laurens responded coolly.

“Good. Now, I must ask one favor of you. At the moment, though everyone else’s connections have been cleared, I have information that Hamilton has been publishing articles in favor of Verite. I must request that you search a few of his belongings to ensure that no evidence can be found to condemn him. Is that clear?” B ordered, not looking up from his cup or his computer.

“Yes, sir.” Laurens responded simply. The sooner he could search Hamilton’s belongings, the sooner his name will be cleared and the whole ordeal could be over with.

John departed from the hotel and once more found himself journeying to Alexander’s dorm. He decided it best to wait a few days before searching Alexander’s bags. He should keep his absence from the house and his nosiness as separate as possible.

\--

Tuesday was their day off. Class had been cancelled, so they had resorted to playing mindless video games all day in the living room. First was Call of Duty, which ended in mild arguments about more intricate battle plans instead of charging in head-first. Next came Injustice, wherein Alex’s memorization of the move combinations had a tendency to overpower John’s inherent button-smashing. Last was Starcraft. The game was close, both sides working hard to decimate the other’s army.

“Hold up, I need to grab my phone,” Alex said, pausing the game and standing from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Laurens took this opportunity to leap from his place once Alex was out of sight, and fiddle through his backpack. No harm should be done. All he would do is peek in and see what Alex had. There wouldn’t be any trouble, he would only confirm that Alex is innocent.

He carefully unzipped the bag and peered into the darkness. The thick fabric held a large amount of textbooks and binders, carefully labeled and colour coded based on the subject they were used for. Laurens smiled to himself at this meticulous organization method.

He fingered through all the loose documents and books the size of bricks until he came to a curiously small sized booklet, about the length of a small tablet and the width of a finger segment. The smooth black cover felt cool in his hands as he slipped it from its hiding place. Turning it around, he read the cover and stopped dead in his tracks.

_Death Note??_

He shakily pulled back the front cover, only to be greeted by the very words he was terrified of seeing.

_The human whose name is written in this note shall die._

Laurens’ breathing quickened, and he began hastily flipping through pages and pages of the notebook paper, reading each and every name listed on the sheets. He dropped the note onto the floor, not bothering to close the bag or replace any of the books. As fast as he could, he fled the house, frantically glancing up and down the street for nothing in particular. Help? Information? He wasn’t sure.

He chose left and gave his best attempts at travelling nonchalantly down the street. He had to get back to B. He had to tell him what he found. If only he had thought to take the book. No matter. B would believe him. They would find the book again and...

Without warning, a sharp pain shot into John’s chest and traveled up his spine. It coiled itself around his rib cage and made him feel constricted to his place on the sidewalk. He stumbled back and dug his nails into his chest, desperately trying to relieve the pain from his ribs. Falling to his knees, the strains became more agonizing to the point where he collapsed on the floor. He curled into a ball and tightened his grip on his chest, before the world around him went black.

_What a pity. He would have been a good ally to have._


End file.
